


Second Helpings, and Secondary Mutations….

by Icon_UK



Category: New Mutants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icon_UK/pseuds/Icon_UK
Summary: Family dinners can lead to the strangest conversations...





	Second Helpings, and Secondary Mutations….

It started, as such things often do, in the aftermath of a “family dinner”.

They weren’t technically family of course, but they had worked as a team for so long, and as classmates before that, that at least once a week they tried to have a communal meal, “Family dinner” was the nickname that Sam had given it one time, and it had sort of stuck. 

By special arrangement with the X-Men, Illyana was even allowed out of her jail cell on “day release” for these, under the watchful eye of the New Mutants, who shared responsibility for her actions. Since her old team were about the only people still speaking to her since the Legion debacle, she didn’t push her luck, well not too much.

Cooking and cleaning were done in shifts and no one argued with one of Dani’s duty rosters (Not twice, at any rate), and whoever had duty for family dinner night could interpret it as loosely as they chose (or thought they could get away with). 

Sam rediscovered the natural cook he’d always been, having been responsible for feeding his younger siblings when his Mom had been too busy. 

Dani was NOT a natural cook, but tried hard and kept the food simple, and edible... mostly.

Nate was still adjusting to a world where food was always so freely available, so tended to get carried away, and though he didn’t cook per se, his deli spreads were spectacularly excessive in a “Who knew you could get decadent with cold meats?” sort of a way.

Warlock was excused cooking for reasons too numerous to count, but was always happy to help the others out, as long as his tasks were very clearly defined.

Roberto and Illyana had tended to order takeout when it came time for their turn, Roberto because he had no interest in cooking, only eating, and Illyana was, in truth, banned from using the kitchen following her last attempt, where some confusion over herbs had led to her stew becoming a semi-accidental invocation to SOMETHING, and which no one talked about by common agreement (No need to worry Cyclops on that score).

Tonight it had been Doug’s turn, and he had wanted to try out a new recipe that Mrs Livitz had given him.

The fact he could speak fluent Latverian (of course) had meant he had become something of a favourite of their elderly neighbour who liked to chat as she cooked, and she had shared old family recipes with him. So tonight had been something fairly unpronounceable (Even to Doug), which Dani been dubbed “Chicken a la DOOOOM!” (Though the “DOOOOM!”” had to be stage whispered in case Mrs Livitz overheard and had a panic attack. Doug had noticed that Latverian exiles were rare and tended to be rather jumpy)

The ideal accompaniment to this rich, spicy chicken casserole was, apparently, a local Latverian beer which had not been available in the US since the 1960’s due to trade embargos.

Doug had been prepared to substitute a domestic beer, but with one of her more innocent smiles, Illyana had summoned a stepping disk and three minutes later returned with a crate containing a couple of dozen bottles. Illyana declared it free of any spells, and Warlock had also checked it for any traces of psychoactive substances or nanotech… with Latveria, you could never be too careful, They’d set a couple of bottles aside for Mrs Livitz, just in case she’d like a taste from the old country,

The cold beetroot soup as a starter had been an unlikely success and the Chicken a la DOOOOM! had been very popular, with everyone wanting second portions.

Afterwards, stomachs full and a few of the (as it turned out, excellent) beers still available, most of the family had sat around the table and the conversation drifted comfortably towards the level of the silly.

Roberto started it…. “So, I see a lot of these secondary mutations around these days. Emma sure has a doozy.“

Amara smirked, “Hard as a diamond? Just reflecting outside what she always was inside.”

“Yeah, what’s up with those, and why don’t any of us have one… no offence Dani”

Dani sighed, “S’okay Roberto, as long as I know I can take you down nine times out of ten in a fight, I’m good. Besides I always thought you already had one…”

“Really?”

“Sure. You have an unerring ability to find a good place to get coffee… We could dump you in the middle of the Sahara (“I could arrange that!” chimed in Illyana) and somehow you’d have found a cold-pressed, double-espresso within ten minutes.”

Roberto hoisted his bottle and nodded solemnly “True. Such power is a crushing repsonstability, but I try to use it wisely“ (Roberto tended to slur his speech when exposed to any alcohol content stronger than mouthwash. His macho side was always embarassed the next day, but it never stopped him)

Amara joined in again “What about Sam and his books. NO ONE could read ALL of those Dune books as fast as he did. That HAS to be a secondary mutation.”

“Ah wish!” said Sam wistfully “Ah’d give a lot for a gift like that. Still doing it the hard way, one page at a time…”

“Oh how you suffer”

“Have you _read_ the later Dune books? Sufferin’ ain’t the word.. Though you’ll notice that Amara NEVER has to wait in line at a checkout… EVER!”

Amara beamed, “That’s actually my PRIMARY mutation, I just generate a little extra heat around me, and people get uncomfortably warm and move away”.

Dani nodded respectfully, “That’s either blatant abuse of a mutant gift, or utter genius… not sure which.”

“Next time you’re in a hurry at the grocery store and there’s seven people ahead of you, you can decide.” 

Dani  continued “…and as for Nate’s amazing ability to make any shirt he gets given disappear, well, perhaps the less said about that the better.” 

This time Amara and Illyana clinked bottles 

Nate looked genuinely puzzled… “But I keep all the shirts. They’re in a box in my room.” 

Amara and Illyana chugged the bottle and cheered raucously. 

Doug came back in from the kitchen where he’d been filling the dishwasher, or convincing Warlock not to impersonate the dishwasher… it varied from moment to moment, as did Warlock, which really didn’t help. 

“So what profound subject is the topic of discourse tonight then?” 

“Secondary mutations”, offered Nate helpfully. 

The other members of the team exchanged looks, and, smiling broadly shouted “THE HAIR!” in unison. This time Sam and Roberto clinked bottles. Only Nate had the good grace to look slightly abashed. 

“What?” Doug’s hand went up to his hair automatically, and everyone else dissolved into giggles. 

Doug eyed his team-mates curiously attempting, and failing (even with his enhanced abilities), to read the room, too many signals… “Ooooh-kay… can’t really let that one slide, though I think I might be happier if I did.” 

Roberto gestured expansively “We’re discussing the incidences… incidenceses of secondary mutations, and we all KNOW you’ve got one.” 

“Not that I know of, some people barely consider my powers a _primary_ mutation” 

Roberto snorted. “You can’t fool us, we know that hair of yours HAS to be a mutation.” 

Doug forced a smile and whispered, “How many beers has ‘Berto had?” 

Sam grinned “Three… but you know he’s a lightweight. Even so though…” 

Dani joined in. “You can tell us Doug. Honest, we won’t judge.” 

Doug leaned out the door and called out “Warlock, are you SURE the beer checked out clear for extra chemicals?” 

“Affirmative Selfsoulfriendcypherdoug. Usual alcoholic beverage related toxins only.” 

“I was afraid of that. Okay…. Why would you even THINK my hair was a mutation?” 

Dani grinned “Because we KNOW it is.  Now… for the purposes of this exercise, do you have a comb about your person at this moment?” 

Doug frowned… “No, I don’t normally carry one” 

“I rest my case” 

“What?”

“Look at that hair, there’s no way that naturally fell into place like that. You’ve spent the last three hours in the kitchen and it doesn’t even look mussed. Still the perfect hair swoop”

“Hairswoop? Is that even a thing? I don’t think that’s a thing.”

Roberto was not going to be left out. “We’ve all seen you get up in the morning, and I swear you come out of your bedroom with “haystack in a hurricane”, and it’s “salon perfect hairswoop before you even reach the bathroom.”

Doug just gave him a look, “You watch me when I walk to the bathroom in the morning?”

“Now you’re delfecting… I mean deflecting… and no, not on purpose… if that helps. But as you said, when it comes to weirdo mutations, you led the field from an early age.”

“I don’t think I phrased it quite like that.”

“Close enough.”

“Right, I am now going to back carefully away from you crazy people, and go back to the kitchen, where the very black, very strong, very caffeine-saturated coffee is brewing, and then I am going to suggest that you fill your mouths with that, and my frankly spectacular caramel pecan muffins (Roberto sniggered, but Doug let it one pass without comment) rather than this crazy talk? Anyone else want to agree on that?”

This met with generally positive cheers.

As he headed back to the kitchen Doug caught his reflection in the hallway mirror. An errant strand of hair the others hadn’t noticed caught his eye and he glared at it. It flattened itself down, and tucked itself back into the “hair swoop” (He’d remember that word, he liked it). Contented, he continued on to the kitchen.“Hair control” was a bizarre idea for a secondary mutation, but when you get a chance to rebuild your entire body from the ground up thanks to the technorganic virus, it would seem silly not to avail yourself of the opportunity for a couple of… minor improvements, and all that messing around with a comb was a shocking waste of time.


End file.
